Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Whole Lotta Nuthin

I signed myself up for this. So I guess you'll be seeing a lot more of me. Not that there's more of me to see. In fact there's less. Still dropping the ounces. It sucks. I wanted to be the biggest president ever.

Go back and read these stories. Annie's Road. Danny O'Death. Dead Chicks. Sorry no new ghost stories.

Officer Jack
Saw him two weekends ago. He's still wearing dresses. He gave me a piece of history. I'll be forever grateful. Owe him an apology for not stopping by before I left town. Shit happens when you're riding with somebody else.

Grounded For Life
Went to see mom. Had to repair her VCR. Took a while but I'm a fucking genius. We sat at the kitchen table shooting the shit.

Trash: "You know granny, my life is real god damn hard."
Granny: "How's that?"
Trash: "Well I wouldn't expect YOU to understand. But when you're as pretty as I am, you get too much attention from the ladies."
Granny: "I'll bet you do."
Trash: "I do."
Granny: "There's none prettier than you son."
Trash: "I know. I mean it's tough. For instance, you know that Texaco in that little town half way between here and there?"
Granny: "Yep."
Trash: "There's a hot little red head with great jubblies that works there. I was getting a bottle of water and she couldn't keep her eyes off me. I felt like she was undressing me with her eyes, violated if you will."
Granny: "You poor thing. That must have been horrible."
Trash: "It was."
Trash Jr: "That didn't happen."
Trash: "You were in the car, what do you know?"
Trash Jr: "I know you're crazy."
Trash: "Hey T3 back me up on this."
T3: "What dad?"
Trash: "Was that red head with the great jubblies looking at me like I was a steak?"
T3: "Yeah dad. They all do. You're a big ol' steak and they're vegetarians."
Trash: "You're grounded."

Twice The Man I Thought I Was
I went to my new Dr. We'll call him Dr. B. He ordered a new testosterone test. He says the test Dr. A gave me wasn't really for testosterone. Seems the testosterone level is highest at 8am. Which explains a lot. He asked me a few questions about hard ons and how often I think about sex. My answers were no problem and all the time. Then he played with my balls. I said "Now I have a hard on problem." Dr. B says I don't have a testosterone problem except I may have too much. Which also explains a lot. Like baldness (too manly for my hair). My sex drive (can't get enough, ever). My thought patterns (sex, sex, sex, football, sex, sex, sex, work, sex sex, sex....). Also why women throw themselves at me, I must be putting some kind of pheromone out there. It can't be just because I'm pretty.

Thursday, October 11, 2007


Once again some fool has shot up his school and then turned his gun on himself. The only plus to that is he saved the tax payers a bunch of money. Nightmare wrote an interesting blog about one of the attempted killers friends reaction. This post is more of a reaction to Nightmares post than a statement on the school shooting, although I will touch on the shooting just a bit.

One thing Nightmare says is parenting IS like it used to be. Sorry dude but I call bullshit on that one. Parenting is a lot harder now days just for the simple fact that you can't beat (spank) your kids anymore. If you do some one is calling DYFS or CPS or whatever liberal children's watchdog group you have in your area. Hell they might even bypass the do gooders and call the police right away, file a complaint and have you arrested on the spot. Don't tell me this doesn't happen. I once had to step in as a witness in a grocery store because a woman called the cops and reported a couple for abuse. Their only crime was telling their child no when she asked for something. The nosey bitch figured since they told the child no and the child threw a fit, then that must be abuse.

Let's not forget the schools. Children are taught from day one that they can report their parents for abuse if mommy and daddy just look at them cross eyed.

Another problem with this particular young man is the fact even though the article didn't say it. I'm pretty sure daddy wasn't anywhere around. The cops had been to his house in the past for a domestic dispute, he evidently slapped his mother and called her a vulgar name. If I tried that shit my dad would have put me in a comma. I'd still be in it too. Plus if daddy had been around the kid probably would have learned to shoot a little straighter.

Back to preventive maintenance also known as corporal punishment. When I was a kid and I fucked up I got my ass beat by whatever neighbor caught me. Once I even got my ass whipped by the cop that caught me. Then I was taken home and got my ass beat by my mom. She told dad about my fuck up of the day when he got home and I got my ass beat again. I usually got at least two ass beatings for my transgressions. Children are much like dogs. They learn through pain association. Fuck up plus get beat equals I won't do that again. Simple math. Used to be the school could beat your ass too. I had a really rough year in 8th grade (my uncle was the principal). I'm not sure this young man would have benefited from an ass whipping, but it certainly couldn't have hurt.

I will agree that this was a piss poor case of parenting. But when daddy's gone and mommy is too small to hand out proper discipline and her hands are tied by the do gooders, then you need to blame more than just the parenting. Hilary Clinton said a long time ago that it takes a whole village to raise a child. Sometimes the village needs to turn their backs and let the kid take the ass whipping he needs.

I agree with Nightmare about people spoiling their children. My kids get nothing for free. If they want something they work. They work for me, demo (can't nobody wreck shit like my kids can), pulling nails, hanging drywall, painting trim any number of construction type things. They're better at it than most grown men. I'm proud of my boys but from time to time they have to be reminded on how to behave (I ain't admitting nothing).

Now on to the shooting. Supposedly when Asa Coon walked out of the bathroom he bumped into Michael Peek. Michael Peek punched Coon in the face and walked away. So Coon shot him. Seems like Coon isn't the only one that need a few lessons on how to treat people. I'm betting the next time somebody bumps into Mr. Peek he thinks twice before punching them in the face. I'm not saying Peek should have been shot but he needed something and in this case it just happened to be a bullet.

I could ramble on and on about this but I wouldn't want to bore you. The facts are this kid was one messed up individual and now he's not. I don't know if any of this could have been prevented but I do know it is harder to raise kids now days.

This is just my opinion. I could be wrong but I'm not.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Half The Man I Used To Be

My blogging has been lacking for quite some time now, in case you haven't noticed. I have no excuse. Except for one really long one. I'll give you the short version.

For the past year or so I've been really sick. When I say sick, I mean dying a slow painful death. I can only work 4 0r 5 hours a day. I'm always sore to the bone and I'm as tired as ... something that's really tired. Don't get me wrong, I ain't whining or bitching or moaning or complaining, except to Jen. I wound up in the emergency room twice because of this. They only found a fucked up blood count. My symptoms ranged anywhere from leukemia to lupus to THE BEAST (aids).

Jen managed to snag a job 6 months ago with benefits. So off to the doctor I went. She sent me to a blood doctor ( I ain't looking up the correct term). He did a BUNCH of test including a bone marrow biopsy and some kind of spleen thing. Turns out I'm lupus free, leukemia free, and I ain't got THE BEAST. However I have and enlarged spleen. Nobody knows why. So he sends me to another doctor. New doctor runs a BUNCH of test. My vitamin D is real low (explains my craving for milk) and now the kicker. My testosterone is so low it would have to be tripled to be a low reading.

The nurse conveyed this information to me and I almost fell out of my chair laughing. It went something like this.

Nurse: " Mr. Trash you have low testosterone."
Nurse: "I don't see what's so funny, this is a serious matter."
Trash: "Lady you must be reading that upside down or backwards."
Nurse: "No. I don't think so. I DO know how to read these reports."
Trash: "I'm way to much man to have low testosterone."
Nurse: "I don't follow."
Trash: "If I were any manlier I would need six wives."
Nurse: "Huh?"
Trash: "I chase my wive around like a horny rabbit."
Nurse: "But do you catch her or is it all in your mind?"
Trash: "If I don't catch her then I beat my monkey bloody."
Nurse: "How often does this occur?"
Trash: "Daily."
Nurse: "We're going to have to refer you to a testosterone specialist."

Once again I'm being passed of to another doctor. It seems that when you have insurance you get passed around like a Saturday night fun time girl. My appointment is the 22nd of this month. I'm not sure if they're going to give me any testosterone or not but if they do I'm defiantly going to be doing some experimenting. The good news is due to the sickness that can not be named I'm losing weight. The bad news is due to my depleated man juice the weight I'm losing is muscle mass and not the fat that orbits me. So I used to be strong like bull and dumb like ox. Now I'm just dumb like ox.

Any way that's it in a nut shell. I'll try to post more often. I'm not looking for sympathy. I know where to find it. In the dictionary between shit and syphillis. I just wanted to explain to y'all and I'm not a secrets kind of guy. To those of y'all that have emailed and I haven't answered. Sorry but it was my nap time.